“Copy that. All teams are moving. Breaches initiated at the downtown offices and the estate.”

I looked down at my tablet, which lay open on the wooden table.

The screen lit up with alerts.

Live security feeds from the Costello headquarters began to flash yellow, then red.

Through the camera in the marble lobby, I saw the heavy glass doors shatter.

Federal agents poured into the building, weapons drawn, jackets marked with bright yellow lettering.

Gregory was there, standing near the private elevator with a leather briefcase.

He dropped it instantly, his hands flying into the air before two agents tackled him to the floor.

Julian laughed, a dry, bitter sound that ended in a cough.

“You think you won, federal?” Julian asked, looking at the agent.

“Quiet,” the agent said, directing his men to bag the laptops on the desk.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out and looked at the screen.

It was an encrypted notification from the Maroni network.

With the Costello hierarchy collapsing in real-time, the vacuum was already being filled.